


the season of eyes meeting over the noise

by somebraveapollo



Category: Saved! (2004)
Genre: Christmas, Crisis of Faith, Depression, Diary/Journal, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebraveapollo/pseuds/somebraveapollo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She couldn’t flee the thought, the dizzying thought that nothing could help - not God or crystals, because she wasn’t even sad for any good reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the season of eyes meeting over the noise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamer_98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamer_98/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, dear **dreamer_98**! All my best wishes, and thank you for your prompt.

On a sunny morning in June, Mary came home from the hospital, and it was the happiest day of her life.

She felt like she was starring in a nativity scene, lying in her childhood bed with her daughter in her arms. Everyone was around her, smiling and talking. She could feel they were all proud of her. She passed Samantha around, and looked through the gifts they’d received: toys and bibs and baby clothes.

Dean was sitting on her bedside, holding her hand like he used to, telling her about how he, Patrick, and Roland had gone crib-shopping and gotten funny looks the maternity shop saleswoman. “And then Patrick asked if she knew where we could buy myrrh!”

Patrick was also near, and hot, and speaking in solemn tones to the baby. Pastor Skip had given them his temporary blessing, and gone on a roadtrip to find God. Mom kept texting him, though, so Mary thought maybe it wasn’t going too well.

Roland was sitting at her desk with Cassandra on his lap. They were talking to Mitch, who caught Mary’s gaze and approached her a bit awkwardly.

“I brought you something too.” He presented her with a notebook. “It’s, uh, a journal.”

“Thanks, you didn’t have to,” Mary said, feeling awkward herself. She hadn’t really exchanged words with him without Dean as a go-between.

“It helped me, when I - when I came out. I mean, to myself and to God. It helps to write down things.”

The diary was red, friendly but grownup-looking. She smiled politely and put it on her bedside table. She didn’t really think she’d use it - she’d tried keeping a diary as a girl, but she always forgot after a week.

 

July 2nd, 2004

Dear God,

I hope it's okay I am going to pray to you this way. It’s kind of easier to settle my thoughts when I’m writing them down. I’m not getting a lot of prayer time (or sleep) lately. But everything is great. Thank you for blessing me with a wonderful family.

Yours, Mary

 

July 20th, 2004

Dear God,

Why won't anyone call Samantha by her name? Mom calls her Sammy-baby, and Dean and Patrick usually call her the Samster, because she has a bib with hamsters on it. Cassandra and Roland call her Spawn of Mary, but in a nice way. I just think it’s weird. You don’t think of Your children by nicknames, do You? Hilary Faye calls her "your child" - as in, "You need to think of your child now, and make sure you’re right with the Lord." I am glad Hilary Faye recovered so quickly, but I wish she wasn't exactly back to her old self. I guess I should try to love her as she is. I don't know if I've forgiven her yet. I will pray to be able to do that.

Yours, Mary

 

August 31st, 2004 

Dear God,

Thank you for bringing Pastor Skip home safely. Mom is happier already but they haven’t talked about their relationship yet. He is still rude to Dean, and he sort of treats me like I’m not even there. He sang a rock song to Samantha, but I don’t think she liked it. I think Patrick misses his mom a bit. I wonder why their marriage didn’t work? Were they not meant to be? How do I know if Patrick and I are meant to be? I guess I have to believe we are, right? I guess all that matters is we’re good for each other, and he’s good with Samantha. You know how thankful I am for that.

Yours, Mary

 

September 1st, 2004

Dear God,

Today in assembly Pastor Skip told everyone about his relationship with Mom. Patrick is furious and so am I. Mom can’t stop crying. Mrs Robertson, her favourite employer who redecorates her house twice a year - called to say she won’t ever let her into her house again, and will pray for her for “seducing” a married man. That’s not what happened and You know that. Please make this go away soon.

Yours, Mary

 

September 14th, 2004

Dear God,

Thank you for helping Dean find a job. I wish his parents were less horrible to him. At least he and Patrick are friends, sort of, but I think he’s very lonely anyway. I’m not sure if I can help - hey, look what happened the last time I tried!

Yours, Mary

 

September 14th, 2004 (later)

Dear God,

Please let Mom break up with Pastor Skip for good. Or at least make him stop coming over when Dean’s here.

Yours, Mary

 

October 15th, 2004

Dear God,

I was so happy to meet Patrick’s mom. But why didn’t he tell me she wants him to go away with her? The way Evelyn talked about all those beautiful places, I really wanted to go too, but just because I can’t doesn’t mean he shouldn’t, right? So I guess I should encourage him to go. That’s the selfless thing to do. Or is it spiritually better for him if he stays with his dad? I guess it’s not up to me. Please just give him guidance to make the best decision possible.

Yours, Mary

 

October 30th, 2004 

Dear God,

Cassie and Roland invited me to a Halloween party today. I think it’s with some of their new friends. I don’t really think I would fit in, and Dean’s working that night and Mom doesn’t like to be alone with the baby. It’s okay, I mean - what would I go as, anyway? ~~A storm cloud that leaks milk?~~

Yours, Mary

 

November 2nd, 2004 

Dear God,

I got a postcard from Patrick today. I hope You are keeping him safe! Mom and Dean are watching some Amelia Earhart documentary, and Samantha’s asleep, finally. I’m glad Mom and Dean are getting along so well. I wish he didn’t have to spend so much time outside of his house though.

Yours, Mary

 

November 24th, 2004

Dear God,

Please help Mom get a contract. She’s been putting up an ad in the newspaper, but it’s not working. I think she should try non-Christian interior decorating. I know she’s never done it outside the community, but it’s not like most people want to pentagrams and nudes in their living room. It could be nice for her to work with people who don’t know about Pastor Skip. And anyway, we kind of need the money.

Yours, Mary

 

On a rainy December afternoon, Mary went Christmas shopping in Walmart.

She was looking at gloves for Dean, but they were all too expensive, and she was trying to ignore the way her back ached under the weight of the groceries she’d already collected. There was a little girl crying in Aisle Four, crying so hard for Harry Potter stickers. Her mother kept trying to shush her. Mary thought, that's going to be me in four years, and then she overturned the neatly-stacked oranges and ran to the bathroom.

She sat on the toilet and struggled to get her diary out of her backpack. Her fingers were still stiff from the cold. Her throat felt constricted but she couldn’t cry.

 _Dear God_ , she wrote, then scrawled it out. It was a lie - she'd known it for a while. She didn't write to God anymore, she was writing to herself, because God wasn’t answering.

Below, she wrote:  
 _Dear Diary_  
 _Why doesn’t Mom have a job yet?_  
 _Why did Dean get shoved around on the ice rink yesterday?_  
 _Why do oranges cost so much?_  
 _Why do I feel this way?_  
 _Why won’t God help?_

She couldn’t flee the thought, the dizzying thought that nothing could help - not God or crystals, because she wasn’t even sad for any good reason. This time last year, she had despaired but she knew exactly what was bothering her. Now there were so many little reasons, and praying was no good at all, it didn’t even calm her. She just got sadder, and lonelier, every time she tried.

Her phone rang. It was probably her mother, reminding her to buy toilet paper. She let it ring out. She knew she needed to get home soon, but she was petrified of opening the stall door, of facing the kind of world where God wouldn’t (or couldn’t) help her.

She leafed over her entries, reading about her own fury, her good moments.

 _This time last year,_ she wrote slowly on a new page, __I was stuck in the bathroom, like I am now. And it was people who helped, not God.__

Even without the diary, her bag was a mess - dirty tissues, aspirin, a pacifier - but she found her phone and flipped it open. Cassie had been the one calling. Mary pressed dial.

“Hey,” she said, hoarsely.

"Hi! Roland and I were wondering whether you could ditch the spawn tonight and come over and watch Christian horror movies."

"That sounds nice," Mary hiccuped.

"Are you crying? Are you all right?"

"I’m - no. I mean, everything’s okay. It’s just a bad day."

"Where are you?"

"Walmart."

"Lesser men have been driven to tears by Walmart," Roland said from somewhere, because Cassandra loved speakerphones. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Which aisle?"

"The bathroom, but you don’t have to - "

"Seven minutes, time me" Cass said and hung up.

Mary shut her phone and laughed a little at herself. She apparently needed an intervention to get out of the bathroom. The goddamn bathroom. She did time Cassandra, who knocked on her stall in six minutes and forty-seven seconds. Mary didn't open the door.

"Hail, Mary," Cassandra said. "I recognised your shoes."

"Hi."

"So, this looks - comfy."

"You know me. I like comfort."

"Yeah. Do you know what's even more comfortable? The handicap stall. Where Roland will find us once he acquires the emergency chocolate."

"Isn't that unethical?"

"I'm sure God won't smite us for it."

“Heh,” Mary said. “I’m not sure if I believe in God any more.”

“Wow.” Cassandra paused, and there was a click of her lighter as she lit a cigarette. “Come on, you can tell me there, it’ll be fun. They even have special toilet paper.”

"I don't really want to go anywhere. I mean, I'll have to eventually."

"Not if you don't want to! You have everything you need for a long and healthy life in there. We can totally bring you food and toilet paper. I've seen you fall asleep sitting up, so that won't be a problem."

"You think I should become a hermit?"

"Yeah, we can make it a thing. Grow out your hair and nails and we'll get people to bring you tributes."

"Sounds like the best career option I have," Mary said, then shook her head, suddenly annoyed by her own self-pity. "All right, I'm coming out."

"If it helps, there's nobody out here but me."

It did help, and Mary opened the stall door. Cass stomped her cigarette out and hugged her.

After the first wave of unexpected panic left her - Mary hadn't touched anyone since Samantha for a long time - she relaxed into it, and let her head rest on Cassandra's shoulder.

Cassie smelled like perfume and nicotine, and she held Mary tightly. She didn't let go when someone opened the door, tutted disapprovingly at them and left. The second time it happened, Mary started giggling and didn't stop until tears ran down her cheek

 

12th December, 2004 

Dear Diary,

I went to Cass and Roland's yesterday after shopping. We watched this movie called The Exorcist. I don’t really think exorcisms work that way, but it was fun. Mom didn't mind watching Samantha after all! Cass says her friends are throwing a "pre-stmas" party, and I think Dean and I should go. I still don't know what to buy anyone for Christmas, but I am a little less worried about celebrating it now. It could be fun!

Yours, Mary

 

22nd December, 2004

Dear Diary,

Dean and I went caroling today with his friends from the ice rink. Only two people refused to open their door for us! Dean called that a success. I’ve bought presents for everyone except Mom. I’m torn between a tank top and a book - it's about divorce. Do you think that's rude?

Yours, Mary

 

23rd December, 2004 (later)

Dear Diary,

Bought Mom a journal, hope she'll like it.

Yours, Mary

 

1st January, 2005

Dear Diary,

Happy New Year! Dean went out with his new crush, so it was just Mom and Samantha and me. It wasn't much different from previous New Years - we watched Lifetime and had takeout. Then we both got a little tipsy, and looked through old photo albums. Samantha was really sweet and didn't even drool much over the pictures. I wonder if Dad would like her. I think he probably would!

Yours, Mary

 

26th January, 2005

Dear Diary,

Dean's parents kicked him out for good. They caught him kissing his boyfriend in the garden. He's sleeping on the sofa. I think Mom will let him stay a few nights - I mean, he already did, when Samantha had that stomach flu. I don't know where he'll go.

Yours, Mary

 

 2nd February, 2005

Dear Diary,

Mom said Dean can stay as long as he wants to. She also said some pretty rude things in her prayer circle tonight, so she won't be welcome there any more. I'm so proud of her, and surprised. It's pretty ironic that she didn't even care about my boyfriend until he made me pregnant and came out as gay... but she said she likes him, and she couldn't see him become homeless. Pastor Skip broke up with her again, but I think she knew that would happen. Dean feels a bit awkward, and I think he's still really mad at his parents. I should do something nice for him, except I can't really afford anything. I guess I'll take him out for ice cream or something.

Yours, Mary

 

10th February, 2005  

Dear Diary,

Mom and I are planning Dean a belated housewarming party. I think it's good for her to take her mind off the job-search. I wonder if she could advertise as a party-planner as well as an interior decoratior! But she couldn't do Christian party planning, because Roland's mom has that market covered and he says she's very territorial. (That's not what he said but I don't swear in my journal!). 

We're inviting Dean's ice rink friends, and some of the less wild Mercy House people. I hope Samantha won't mind being surrounded by people! Cassandra is bringing the music, but Samantha loves Cassie's music, so that should be okay. 

I don't know whether I'll mind being surrounded by people, but I guess it's time to find out.

Yours, Mary

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to A. for the emotional support, to **rufus** for a lightning-quick beta, and to **egelantier** for basically holding my hand every step of the way.


End file.
